eart-upholding, the harvester may be golden-bearded,
the doctor may be secret-guessing, the cataract may be iris-leapt,
the Anglo-Saxon infant may be brave-browed, but against and above
all these prodigies the grand simple tendency of Dr. Warner to get
murdered will still pursue its way until it happily and triumphantly
succeeds at last."

He pronounced this peroration with an appearance of strong emotion.
But even stronger emotions were manifesting themselves on the other
side of the table. Dr. Warner had leaned his large body quite across
the little figure of Moses Gould and was talking in excited whispers
to Dr. Pym. That expert nodded a great many times and finally started
to his feet with a sincere expression of sternness.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he cried indignantly, "as my colleague has said,
we should be delighted to give any latitude to the defence--if there
were a defence. But Mr. Moon seems to think he is there to make jokes--
very good jokes I dare say, but not at all adapted to assist his client.
He picks holes in science. He picks holes in my client's social popularity.
He picks holes in my literary style, which doesn't seem to suit his high-toned
European taste. But how does this picking of holes affect the issue?
This Smith has picked two holes in my client's hat, and with an inch better
aim would have picked two holes in his head. All the jokes in the world
won't unpick those holes or be any use for the defence."

Inglewood looked down in some embarrassment, as if shaken by the evident
fairness of this, but Moon still gazed at his opponent in a dreamy way.
"The defence?" he said vaguely--"oh, I haven't begun that yet."

"You certainly have not," said Pym warmly, amid a murmur of applause
from his side, which the other side found it impossible to answer.
"Perhaps, if you have any defence, which has been doubtful from
the very beginning--"

"While you're standing up," said Moon, in the same almost sleepy style,
"perhaps I might ask you a question."

"A question? Certainly," said Pym stiffly. "It was distinctly
arranged between us that as we could not cross-examine
the witnesses, we might vicariously cross-examine each other.
We are in a position to invite all such inquiry."

"I think you said," observed Moon absently, "that none of the prisoner's
shots really hit the doctor."

"For the cause of science," cried the complacent Pym, "fortunately not."

"Yet they were fired from a few feet